In her apartment, Rose fluttered around picking up her magazines, and running the vacuum quickly across her floor. She was by nature, neat and tidy, and her apartment needed very little before his arrival.
He had been right about her being in sweats, and she quickly changed into a pair of khaki slacks and a pink cashmere sweater. Running a brush through her hair, and dabbing some blue eyeshadow on her lids, she added some pink lip gloss and was ready. Her pause on the telephone had not been due to the state of her home, or the clothes on her back. She was in the middle of baking a desert for that evening, and wanted it to be a surprise.
Running back into the kitchen, she checked the oven. Ten minutes and her special pie would be ready. His knock at the door made her heart jump, and breaking into a huge smile she hurried to open it, only to find herself staring at a gigantic bouquet of sunflowers completely obscuring his face.
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed.
He lowered them down, revealing himself, and grinned.
“Because you bring sunshine, even when it’s cold and raining,” he explained.
“But it’s not cold and raining,” she replied.
“It was where I have been.”
“Thaddius, they’re absolutely amazing. Where did you find a florist open on a Sunday?”
“I have my ways,” he chuckled.
“Sorry, come in,” she offered stepping aside.
She closed the door behind him, and he followed her through the small foyer into her living room, laying the flowers on the coffee table.
“I should put them in water,” she declared, moving to pick them up.
Before her hand reached the stems, he grabbed her elbow, spinning her around, and walking her backwards, pressed her against the wall.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered, his lips at her ear.
Rose thought her heart was about to burst from her chest. The butterflies that had sprung to life at his knock on the door, gave birth to hundreds more, and as his fingers wrapped themselves around her wrists, sliding them up the wall and over her head, she felt her spine turn to jelly.
Locking her wrists with one hand, his other traveled to her face, his finger tracing the outline of her lips. The whisper of his mouth against hers promised what was to come, what she believed would be a deep, engulfing kiss, but the fluttering breath moved to her cheek, then down her neck, where finally it came to rest with a small, slight touch.
“Ooohhh,” she moaned..
“Shhh,” he warned. “Not a sound and do not move.”
Gulping back her need to groan, to gasp, to fall against his chest, she felt his lips move away, then his finger returned, circling her breasts, outlining their shape through the soft, thin sweater. Her nipples jumped in response, puckering in expectation.
“When I move my hand from your wrists, you’re to keep your arms exactly where they are. Nod if you understand me.”
She slowly bobbed her head, and his whispering lips returned to her ear.
“Good girl. Now silently count backwards from ten, and then you can open your eyes.”
He released his grip, and she heard the quiet rustling of his clothes. She realized she was barely breathing, and waited, anticipating what she wasn’t sure, then remembered she was supposed to be counting. As her mind did the chore, her heart throbbing with a heavy, mesmerizing beat, she finally opened her eyes. The room was empty. He had left.
Sliding down the wall, her legs unable to support her, she felt a hot, dewy wetness pulsing through her sex. A bell sounded, and for a moment she couldn’t place what it could be or where it might have come from, then the penny dropped. It was the oven signaling it was time to remove her pie. Out of nowhere she started giggling, then laughing, then overcome with a delirious sense of happiness, she fell on her side, almost hysterical with joy. Get the pie out of the oven you idiot, she groaned to herself.
Struggling to her feet, she moved haltingly to the oven and turned it off. Not trusting herself to safely remove the hot dish in such a wobbly state, she left the oven door open to help it cool faster, and made her way to the couch to catch her breath, but as she approached she saw an envelope sitting innocently on top of the flowers.
Plopping down on the soft cushions, she picked it up and opened it, withdrawing the folded piece of paper inside. It was his stationery, and handwriting stared up at her.

Tonight we will pick up where I just left off. Dinner will be our dessert. I will send a car for you and it will pick you up at six. Don’t forget your toothbrush. L and K, T.

A warm chill shuddered down her spine.

For three minutes he had immersed her in a romantic, sensual seduction, leaving her filled with heavy, erotic need.

For three minutes she had stopped breathing and lived to tell about it.

For three minutes there was only the two of them in the whole world.

For three minutes she had no thought, no consciousness, and felt only his whispered breath, the fluttering touch of his fingertip, and the sure, steel grasp of his hand holding her wrists captive.